The Alternatives
by MangAsian13
Summary: Based on the 17-1800's. Arthur is seeking a new job to help support his family. He stumbles upon an advertisement in the local newspaper - a job offer on the merchant ship Claudine. He becomes friends with the crew, well, except one cocky man and his pipe
1. Once in a Life Time Opportunity

**The Alternatives **

**Once in a Life Time Opportunity  
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><p>The town was awakening. A little boy sat on a large grey rock on a beach, and watched the sea toss and turn onto the textured sand. The sky was painted pink and gold as the sun rose from its slumber. Seagulls cried out as they knocked into each other in greeting. The boy's gentle azure eyes smiled, but his lips made no movement. He reached out to a lonesome pink cloud above him with his petite hand, and tried to grab it.<p>

He couldn't.

His hand dropped onto his lap. He clutched onto his wrinkle rag-like pants and glared at them. A random gull swooped down on him and waddled beside him. It squawked as if to say, 'go away you're taking my spot!' the boy didn't understand gull language, so he stayed seated on the rock.

There was a crunch from behind of gravelled sand. He turned around and blinked innocently at a young girl around his age. Her name was Lidia and she had the brightest pair of green eyes ever known to man.

"Denise," she greeted with a broad smile on her tanned face, "Your mummy is looking for you."

He nodded silently and jumped of his rock. Lidia grabbed his hand and pulled him along towards his house.

They jogged past small, cosy houses that were made of limestone and plated rooves. All of them had a small flower garden placed in front of their curtained windows. The ground was cemented and tough on Denise's small feet. He winced as the ground scratched at him and gnawed at his heels. He watched longingly at Lidia's polished black shoes that tapped musically against the ground.

Soon enough, his house was in front of them. It was a rundown hut. The roof was thatched together and the walls were layers of lime stone and mixture of sandstone glued by a variety of sticky substances, like honey. They didn't have a flower garden, and they didn't have curtained windows. Actually, there wasn't glass to protect them from the forces of nature anyway. Many people believed they lived in a medieval house and that it was haunted. Not that Denise knew what all that meant.

Lidia left, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek. Her shoes tapped and vanished around the corner. Denise turned around and made his way up to his home. He knocked on the door, only to get a knuckle full of white paint. His father must have repainted the door again.

Someone run up to the door in response and gently clicked the door open. Denise stared up at the gentle face of his mother. She smiled at him and led him back inside, her broom trailing on behind her.

He searched for his father, who wasn't there. The walls were wooden and planked vertically, a small wooden table was placed by the glassless window, and large blankets were huddled together o the other side of the room. There were no other rooms, so it was a simple home. The kitchen was placed to the left where the table and window was. Denise's mother was preparing breakfast.

"Now Denise, what would my big boy want to breakfast this morning?" she asked, walking up to the rusty stove.

His mother's name was Guinevere, but she preferred to be called Gwen. She was an average woman. She had tanned skin and large black eyes and hair. Her hair was curled, some in small ringlets and some in waves. Denise noticed she was wearing her light brown dress that reached to her feet. She wore no shoes.

"Can I have sweet porridge?" he asked, "Please?"

Her eyes glazed over with sadness, "I'm sorry sweetie, but we can't afford sugar."

"But why mummy?"

"Well, because, your daddy is trying very hard to earn money since… Your grandpapa passed away…" she tried to explain in a soft tone.

His grandfather, Uther Pendragon, had died suddenly a few months ago. Denise's father mourned over his death and had tried to be dutiful and made as much money as possible by opening a store called _Treasure Chest__._Unfortunately, they never made enough money because next door was a meat store where all the customer's loved to buy fresh beef. And besides, who would waste their money on antiques?

Denise stared at Gwen; he had never seen a reflection of himself. All the other kids called him weird. Apparently, according to the other parents, he had been a charcoal kid with straw hair. He had noticed that people were afraid to look into his eyes. Gwen had told him his eyes were beautiful and was god's gift. He remembered accurately that his eyes were brown with blue specks around the edges. Kind of like the ripples of murky water.

He thought again, "Can I have milk, please," he whispered.

Gwen nodded and went to fetch some milk.

The milk man was a nice man. He knew the family since Denise was born (which was ten years) and gave them extra milk despite the risk of losing his job. He had always said to Denise, 'Cuppa milk each day and you'll be a strong fella believe me'. He had said I with such a large honest smile that the boy just couldn't help but take the milk man's advice.

He sat on the stool by the table and stared out the window. His home was so far away from the rest of the town. They lived near the cliff and the beach while everybody else lived further inland. His mother returned with a wooden cup of milk and placed it in front of him.

"Remember what the milk man said?" she cheerfully said.

"One cup of milk will make me a strong boy!" he piped up, his fist whacked his huffed up chest and he smiled proudly. He never stopped drinking milk.

"That's right!"

He gulped down every last ounce of milk from the cup and hiccupped at the end. His mother chuckled like a bird and took his cup. He watched Gwen's retreating figure and made his way to the door.

"Oh by the way, Denise, you forgot..." Gwen turned around to find her son already out the door and towards his father's store

* * *

><p>"Oh damn it!"<p>

Denise's father was bent over, picking up shards of sharp glass. He had broken what it seemed to be a glass doll. Denise peered through the door hoping to be unnoticed, but the bell dinged as he opened it. His father turned around with hope in his large blue eyes. But it faded when they landed on his son.

"Denise, what are you doing here?" he spoke softly but demandingly all at the same time.

Denise's father was blond with pale white skin. He was muscular and had a short chopped beard that framed his facial features. The boy admired his father and had always wanted to be just like him. He clutched onto the door knob and said nothing.

"Oh what the hell, come inside already," he ordered in a light tone as he scooped up the last shard, "What does my little boy want today?"

He realised that his parents always asked what he wanted. And he always knew that he would never get what he wanted anyway, so he answered with a shake of his head.

Another ding was heard and his father's eyes really did light up this time. An elderly woman feebly staggered in, struggling to open the door fully. Denise ran up to her and opened the door. She smiled at him, her crow's feet like branches connected from her eyes and her rubbery skin wrinkled around the corners of her thin lips.

"Aren't you a good boy," she complimented, "Here, a treat for good boys like you."

She pulled out a wrapped up lolly from her woolly coat and placed in his hands. Denise beamed like a star in the night and smiled so broadly that his face hurt. His father grinned and guided the lady inside.

"Beautiful day isn't it Martha?" he started.

"Yes, yes… Never seem quite a day," she agreed contently as she ran her stick hands across the ancient antiques, "You always have the most fascinating ornaments."

Martha was like a grandmother to Denise and a true friend to his father. She had visited _Treasure Chest _for years now. Apparently the previous owner also owned the store as an antique shop. Martha stubbornly believed that Arthur's family had the most intriguing antiques ever found in the world.

"You flatter us Martha!"

"No, no, Arthur, your family is the nicest and most hospitable family here," she mused, holding onto a little treasure chest made of china, "I can't believe you don't sell better than that hostile butcher, Roger!"

Roger was the butcher next door (the one that was taking all their customers). Arthur never liked Roger, he always thought of the man as an irritating, arrogant twit that enjoyed bullying his son and his wife. Arthur loved his family; there was nothing that could describe his devotion to his loved ones.

He spied Denise sitting on the wooden floor near the shelves full of antique-like toys. Most of them were second hand, and many people in the town treated the shop like a dump. They'd dump whatever crap they didn't need and leave. Arthur hated it, but he had no choice but to go along with it. He needed all that crap to make money. He hadn't showered for a week and Gwen had complained about the lack of food for the family.

"How's Maxie?"

Martha laughed, "Oh he did the silliest thing the other day!"

If Arthur could remember correctly, Maxie was Martha's dog, "What happened?"

"Well, he was chasing Casper in the lounge room and poor Maxie toppled over and into Casper and Casper slashed at him!" Martha said animatedly.

"Casper?" Arthur and Denise both asked in unison.

"Oh, that's right, you two haven't met Casper yet have you?" she smiled, "He's our kitten. Odette found him on the street two days ago. Oh, she loves Casper so much."

Denise piped up, "Kitten?" he chimed.

Martha nodded in his direction, "Why yes, would you like to see him today?" she offered, turning to Arthur, "If that is alright with you of course."

Arthur grinned, "Of course he can."

Jumping up, Denise charged at his father and hugged so tightly whilst whispering, "love you" and ran out the door. Martha chuckled as she tried to keep up with the toddle/youth. Arthur shook his head and smiled. He ought to buy Denise a pet for his birthday since the boy had no friends.

Before she left, Martha announced, "By the way, I heard there is a job offer for a ship crew. I heard it has good pay, look into it if you wish."

With that, the bell dinged and Martha and Denise were gone.

Arthur leaned against the counter and stared at his store. Should he apply for the job or shouldn't he? If he worked there it would solve all his issues with finance. Denise would get what he deserved and darling Gwen, she could take a vacation from housework! But that would also mean he wouldn't be able to see his family for months. He wouldn't be able to check on Denise and defend him when he was getting bullied and most of all his wife would be taunted by Roger.

Roger fancied Gwen, and Arthur knew that. The butcher hated him for stealing Gwen away from him. So much that he once trashed Arthur's home with Gwen and Denise in it. Arthur was so mad that he slammed Roger's face onto a wall and suffocated him with a piece of steak for a few minutes. From then on, they never got along.

A newspaper was lying on the edge of the counter. Arthur slid it across the smooth surface and read through the articles. The first thing he saw was a large, confronting, advertisement for a job offer:

_Ever wanted to travel over the world? Well, this is a once in a life time opportunity to take a trip around the world! All we need is a crew and mechanics, we pay hundreds of dollars for all those who join and make it in!_

Arthur gazed at the picture of a large merchant ship. Its masts huge and its statue of a mermaid were majestic. It appeared that they were searching for a crew and some mechanics. The advertisement seemed poorly written, but it promised hundreds of dollars. Again, Arthur's mind wandered. Should he or shouldn't he?

He kept staring at the advertisement. Finally, he dumped the newspaper down, slipped on his coat, locked the door to the shop, and made his way to the docks.

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><p>Arthur thanked the heavens for locating his home on the part of the beach <em>away <em>from the docks. The area was filled with ships, wharfs, fishermen and merchants. It stunk of fish and rats. The ships were giants and they stared down at everyone. Gulls pestered him as he walked by; fishermen eyed him like an eagle and carried on with their work. Arthur felt stupid because he didn't even know where the ship was.

"You lookin' for Claudine?" a thin, old fisherman said bluntly, a piece of straw hung between his yellow, decayed teeth.

Arthur blinked, "Claudine? No, no, I'm looking for a merchant ship."

"Pompous idiot," the old man muttered, "That's her name, the ship's name!"

"Oh," Arthur mumbled in realisation, "Yes, then I am looking for… Claudine…"

"It's the one with the mermaid yeah?"

"Yes, that's the one."

The fisherman pointed forwards, "Down there by Stacey. Stacey's the one with the lizard thing. Oh and make sure you take this with ya."

He tossed Arthur a knife. Arthur stared at him in confusion and remorse.

"Why would I need this?" he questioned slowly, holding the weapon like it was a disease.

"You ain't goin' to survive on tha ship if you can't even defend yourself!" he exclaimed, "It's to ward off pirates."

"So there are pirates on that ship?"

"NO! For bloody sakes, you're gonna be tested on ya defensive skills yeah?"

"And you know this how?" Arthur wasn't buying any of this.

"My son is recruiting there as well," he finally replied calmly.

Arthur merely nodded and thanked the man for giving him directions. It wasn't long before he came face to face with the magnificent _Claudine. _The ship wasn't _huge _but it was rather large. There were males of all ages hopping onboard and off, some tattered and bruised while others were triumphant and were cheering on the decks.

He stared at the mermaid sculpture stuck at the front. The mermaid's hair was whipped back like the wind had rushed past, her long fish tail curled up to the right and her mouth parted as if she was singing. Her arms were apart. The rest of Claudine was wooden and there were oysters and other shells on the sides of the ship.

Arthur gripped onto the knife in his cloak pocket and went on the deck. People were everywhere. He wouldn't be surprised if half the town was here on this ship.

"Hey you!" a bearded man strolled up to him like a lizard, "You new?"

Arthur nodded cautiously. The young bearded man had orange red hair and beard and a wiry beard that reached his chest. He wore white tights and a blue formal captain clothing. His boots were polished clean, Arthur felt embarrassed as he was wearing no shoes. The man noticed this and smirked.

"You poor man?" he asked mercilessly, "Don't worry, you got a good beard! A nice beard shows power!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Right…"

He smiled a crooked smile and held out his callous, square hand, "Captain Scanlon, welcome to Claudine."

"Arthur," he smiled and shook hands with Captain Scanlon.

"Arthur…?" Scanlon let out a croaked laugh, "Is that all, no last name?"

"Pendragon, Arthur Pendragon sir," Arthur joked at the end.

Scanlon nodded in approval, "A powerful surname Arthur _Pendragon_, I approve!"

Arthur liked this man already and it didn't even take a few minutes. Scanlon ushered him further in the ship and sat him down on a barrel next to a couple of other recruits. They all stared at him as the captain strolled away to check out the fighting. Arthur's ears were filled with sounds of knives and swords clashing and panting and groaning. A couple of people were laid on the floor unmoving. He clutched on the knife inside his pocket again and tried to keep calm.

'Think of Gwen, think of Denise…'

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><p><strong>I actually didn't think I would post this idea. But it was there and it was nagging me. Arthur and Gwen are really OOC so I'm really sorry about that. Hope you liked the first chapter :).<strong>


	2. Disputes from Every Corner

**I need to clear something up: This story is loosely based on the 1700s - 1800s. And I know Denise is a girl's name lol.  
>There's a bit of violence in this chap, and I'm sorry if i get the english currency wrong :).<br>Hope you enjoy this chap :D.  
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><p><strong>Disputes from Every Corner<strong>

Arthur breathed in deeply. His pulse rushed like a stereo. Captain Scanlon had returned with a smile plastered on his face. Arthur gulped; it wasn't like he never fought before, it was more of the fact that he can't _back out and flee _afterwards. The way Captain Scanlon's muddy eyes looked, Arthur could only guess it was his turn.

He tried not to skim glances at all those that had fallen around him. Unfortunately, he did. He stared aimlessly at the injured man with wide eyes. The man had cuts slashed deeply into his face, arms and chest. There was a large bruise probing on his forehead, his eyes were blackened to the point where Arthur thought he resembled a panda. There was a trickle of blood dripping from the corners of his parched lips.

Glancing up, he made out the victor. The man was heavy built and blockish, he was like a human version of a house. His hair was dark brown with strands of grey, there were warts plaguing his nose and chin, a large dominating mole stuck out on his neck, and there were minor injuries across his square, muscular arms where he probably used as defence. He noticed Arthur's judgemental stare and he screwed up his face into a sneer.

"Wanna fight?" he threatened, bulking up his arms to show off his muscles.

Arthur shook his head out of fear. He found a pocket knife from the man's front pocket. Begging the captain to let him go with his pleading blue eyes, Captain Scanlon just gave him a toothy smile and pushed him forward. When Scanlon smiled, his eyes deceived him.

So did his voice.

"Nobody likes a coward," he uttered darkly, his smile still plastered on his face.

Arthur suppressed the urge to sigh, "Alright…"

Captain Scanlon genuinely smiled this time, "That's the good man. Show them that your surname isn't just there as decoration."

He stepped up in front of the towering man in front of him. Never had he felt so puny in his life. The man had narrowed grey eyes and he stunk of fish and… wonderful things…

"Arthur Pendragon."

The man smirked, "Fredrick Van Houlton."

Arthur returned the amused smirk, "Foreign?"

His smile fell, "You got a problem with my name?" he hissed as he moved forward till he was straight in Arthur's personal space.

"No."

"Good."

Scanlon coughed awkwardly, "Well, cut the chit chat and _get on with it_!"

"Yes sir!" Fredrick saluted randomly and launched at Arthur like a feline predator.

"Holy!" Arthur quickly dodged out of the way.

Words diminished quickly like vapour, and they were circling each other like lions in a duel. Fredrick had his hands fisted in front of his face while Arthur was sweating from anxiety. He hadn't fought someone since he was fourteen and he was twenty-seven now. Gwen never liked fighting and convinced him that he was just hurting himself if he continued, so the rebellious, arrogant Arthur vanished and this mature, dutiful, soft Arthur replaced him.

The air tensed until… BAM! Fredrick pounced out of nowhere and landed a rock hard punch on Arthur's jaw. Arthur cried out in surprise. He tumbled forward, losing his balance, he tried to grab onto something, someone, but everybody around him shuffled away. They cheered on 'FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!' it took Arthur a while to get back on track.

But Fredrick struck again.

This time it was in the gut. Saliva spurted out of Arthur's mouth like a lizard's tongue just never returning. And from that moment, it seemed the young Arthur bounced out of nowhere and flamed up his emotions. He growled at Fredrick, who in return sneered back.

"Aww, what, did I just knock down a dragon?" he mocked.

"Shut up," Arthur muttered, standing up straight.

Fredrick laughed, but not evilly. He ran directly at Arthur at maximum speed. Arthur was still and watched as the man drew closer and closer until… He jumped out of the way at the last minute, causing Fredrick to charge straight into the wooden floor. Arthur smirked smugly and rammed his fist right across his opponent's face. Fredrick wailed out in anger, his eyes stormy and dark. Arthur did not move from his ground and stared into his eyes with equal amount of intensity.

He allowed Fredrick to make the first move, which was technically, charging into the opponent. Arthur dodged every attempt and occasionally, tripped him, kicked him and punched him. The crowd started to turn quiet as they got more into the fight, even Captain Scanlon was watching with much interest.

Fredrick roared like a lion (he was very much like one) and flipped out his knife and slashed violently. Arthur cursed, he had forgotten about that! But he thanked the old man from the fishing dock for giving him the knife.

The opponent's knife was closing in and suddenly a clang rung as metal collided with metal. Fredrick snorted, his knife was new and clearly sharper and larger than Arthur's, but Arthur trusted in his instinct to fight. Painstakingly, Arthur forced his knife upward in an attempt to overpower Fredrick, but gravity was working against him.

He had to let go. Waiting for the right chance, he slipped his knife back with one hand and slipped the other hand away. Fredrick crashed to the ground again. With this chance, Arthur elbowed the man's head downward. His face knocked the ground and blood trickled into a small puddle. When Fredrick glanced up in defeat, Arthur felt a little pang of guilt for deforming the man's warty nose and knocking out a couple of fine teeth.

"Winner is PENDRAGON!" Scanlon announced loudly and the crowd cheered whole heartedly, giving Arthur pats on the back of respect and congrats.

Captain Scanlon grinned broadly, "You live up to your name Arthur," he praised.

Arthur didn't know what was with Scanlon and his name, but he figured it was a good thing and let it slide. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Fredrick up on feet and heading his direction. The man didn't seem quite as big now that he had beaten him.

"Good fight kiddo," he nodded in approval, "Not that I have the right to criticise, but you're a little rusty on the punches."

"Thanks," Arthur managed, thinking before blabbing, "It's been years since I had a good fight though. Oh, and not that I have the right to criticise, but I realised you may put too much power in one attack."

Fredrick took this to account, "Yeah, been my issue for ages. I get caught up in the situation and go straight for it."

Arthur cracked a smile, "It's good to see passion these days."

He laughed, "Passion? You definitely don't sound like a poor man!"

Arthur faltered slightly, "I guess even a poor man can appear clever?"

"Tell me why you came here."

"My shop isn't selling well…" Arthur smiled sadly, "Pretty much in search for a new job to support the family. Tell me, how about you?"

"Bored of life kiddo," Fredrick shrugged, "I figured it'd be better to live my life than sit around doing nothing."

"Haven't got a family?"

"Nah never got married, but I do have a lover," he explained casually as if the broken nose didn't hurt at all.

"Is she nice?" Arthur couldn't help but ask.

"Hey, hey, if you weren't married I'd think you were gonna steal my lover away!" Fredrick cracked up, accidently wiping his bloody nose, "Ah shit… forgot 'bout that."

"It's going to be infected if you don't clean it," Arthur pointed out in 'a matter of fact' tone.

Fredrick nodded; his brown locks fell into his face and stuck a bit on the blood smeared on his face. Arthur grimaced at the sight and hinted to the man that he needed to wash his face _soon_. Arthur chuckled at his overly clean thoughts; Gwen really took a toll on him. She had always cleaned everything to the very grain.

Just before he was about to say something, Captain Scanlon popped from behind Fredrick and smiled. He was holding a rolled up piece of tattered paper. It seemed burned at the corners and edges. He unrolled it and gave it to Arthur read.

"It's not gonna bite," he teased, noticing Arthur's cautious expression, "It's a contract."

Arthur stared at him confusion, "Why do I need one?"

"Take it home and read it," Scanlon commanded.

Taking the edgy contract, he slipped it into his knifeless pocket. The captain nodded silently at Fredrick as the larger man waddled away clutching on his nose.

"Thank you, sir."

"Oi, I ain't that old!" he laughed out loud, giving Arthur a pat on the back, "We need more crew members like you!"

With that, Arthur smiled and left. The fishing dock was near empty as most of the fishermen were out at sea on their crummy, wooden boats that swayed back and forth in the ocean water. The sun was high in the Lazuline sky. It was almost lunchtime.

* * *

><p>Casper was a light coloured tabby cat. He had the creamiest coat and the greenest of eyes. He was jumping up, trying to reach the ball of lilac wool on Martha's lap. Martha was comfortably seated on her dark red single coach. Denise watched her knit a small jumper which he assumed was for Casper.<p>

They were in the lounge room where the candles were burning and the velvet curtains were closed, there were paintings of fruits and flowers hung on the cream walls. The carpet was also red and was soft and comfy. It was obvious that Casper had taken his toll on the wooden furniture. Scratches and tiny marks were littered over the tables, chairs and shelves.

"Where's Maxie?" Denise wondered as he searched the room.

Martha placed her knitting down, "Odette's taking him on a walk," she replied, "Are you by any chance hungry? It is lunchtime."

"Y-Yes, ma'am," he stammered in embarrassment.

She grinned widely, "Good," she picked up her small golden bell and rung it, "Marianne! Bring us some tea and bread – Oh, bring us some butter too."

"Tea, what is tea?"

"Oh darling… Do you not know what tea is?"

Denise shook his head sadly, "No ma'am…"

Martha rung the bell loud and clear again, "Marianne!" she shouted, her voice cracked a little, "Bring us sugar and some Yorkshire pudding."

At the word 'pudding' Denise lit up like a firefly. Marianne popped out from behind the large decorated door and brought in two small, light brownish gold puddings and two delicate cups of tea on a medium sized silver platter. She had a large smile on her petite face as she strolled her way through.

Marianne was a pretty woman. She had light blonde hair and light grey eyes. She wore a long black dress with a white frilled apron. To Denise she resembled a toy doll Lidia had back at London and she brought back to her hometown.

Casper stopped jumping and stared longingly at the tray. Denise laughed as Casper's small pink tongue shot out and curled over the top of his lips. Marianne must have spotted it and danced away from the cat and gently placed the tray on Martha's lap where Casper couldn't reach. The cat's face dropped and he sat there in defiance.

"Casper?" Denise called out, but the cat gave him the cold shoulder and trotted away.

"Leave him, he'll get over it soon," Martha stated as she handed him a piece of pudding.

He chewed on it slowly, savouring the taste in his mouth.

"Is it good?" Martha asked eagerly, "Do you want gravy with that?"

Denise looked up in confusion, "What's gravy?" he questioned, chewing the piece of pudding in his mouth contently.

"Oh my," Martha exclaimed, "Marianne, fetch us some gravy."

Marianne curtsied, "Yes ma'am," and hurried away.

"Normally we have meat with it, but I do not want to hinder Marianne at this moment," Martha said thoughtfully, "Oh! I almost forgot! Now where is that present I got you?"

Blue eyes widened with surprise, Denise stood up and began searching with her. He got on his knees and ducked under the tables and chairs, hoping to find a small wrapped up gift hidden there. It wasn't long before Martha gasped in triumph and pulled out a _large _tightly wrapped, pink gift from behind the coach.

Just as he was about to grab it, the door bell rang.

"Oh who could that be?" Martha pondered.

The door opened and Marianne was bowing politely, "Ms Goodwin, someone's expecting you," she reported softly.

"Let him in."

"Yes ma'am."

Arthur entered the room steadily. There wasn't blood on his face or evident bruising. He came to fetch his son home, but it was obvious that Denise wanted to stay a little longer. The boy's face was shadowed with slight disappointment. Martha had a wrapped up gift on her lap. It made Arthur wonder how she conjured the time to get such gifts for his son. But gifts were a good thing and Denise deserved it, so Arthur didn't question it further.

"You have come to take Denise home?" Martha pointed out, yet it ended up in question.

Denise got up and clumsily ran up to his father, "Daddy, I wanna stay and play with Casper! I wanna taste gravy and see what's inside the present! Can I stay? Please daddy," he begged, his eyes pleaded like a homeless puppy on the street.

Arthur didn't know what to do. Whenever Denise did that, he would oblige, but it was lunchtime, and Gwen had told him last night that she wanted both of them home at that specific time. He didn't know why she wanted them there so badly, but there was a twinkle in her eyes that promised something good.

"Your mother has something she wants to show us," he reasoned lightly.

"Can't mummy show us later?" Denise whined.

"No."

Upon seeing that grumpy face, Martha chuckled and handed the gift to him. Denise sparkled like a firework and thanked her sincerely for the gift. Arthur smiled and thanked her as well before he led his son away from the lady.

Once they were outside her front door, Denise stared up at his father, "What do you think is inside?" he quizzed as he shook the present wildly.

"I actually don't know," Arthur admitted in a joking tone.

Their conversation grew longer as they started their barefoot walk home. 

* * *

><p>Gwen wasn't use to this. She was restless and jittery, she just wanted to dance around the room and rather than sweeping the floors. Maybe she could do both.<p>

She stared out the glassless window, waiting for her husband and her son. Pieces of steak were simmering on the stove. She knew Arthur loved meat even though he could barely afford it. Roger was kind enough to offer a slab of meat for free, though she wasn't stupid enough to believe that there wasn't an alter-motive behind his carefree behaviour. Nobody in this era did things without reason; there was always a motive – a plan.

The smell of spices tingled her nostrils, she breathed in happily. Although she didn't want to admit it, she knew the butcher had a _thing_ for her. To her, it was a mindless infatuation, like she was an object rather than a human being. He only wanted her because she wouldn't oblige to him and she was already taken. In her eyes, he was a thief in attempt to steal her heart away from Arthur.

And he would never succeed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. She opened it and smiled, but her smile gradually fell. It was Roger.

"May I help you?" she asked politely, she kept the door open as minimal as possible.

"I can tell you're enjoying the meat Guinevere," he grinned.

Roger was a stocky man. He was well rounded and rather hairy. But he wasn't ugly. He had clearer skin than most men, straight white teeth, silky curled hair that was sand, and his eyes were nice and clear hazel. He was short and always wore a white butcher apron and a striped shirt.

"Yes I am, Mr Boucher," Gwen hesitated a bit. Should she let him in?

The butcher clearly saw that she was reluctant. So he pushed his advances.

His lips tugged into a charming smile, "May I come in?"

Gwen stalled. She didn't _want _him to come in, but she wasn't in the status quo to say such ignorant things such as _no. _It could put her whole family in jeopardy. She was treading on thin ice; if she didn't let him in he'd most likely harm Denise and torment Arthur. The fact that they were lacking in money didn't help the situation either.

"Sorry, what did you just say?" she asked, feigning confusion.

"May I-"

"Roger Boucher."

Roger turned around and was overshadowed by a huge Arthur Pendragon. His eyes were blazing from fury. Roger hadn't forgotten the day when the man in front of him smashed him into a wall and face planted him in his own products. And he still hadn't forgiven the man.

He gazed at Denise; he had to be the oddest looking child according to Roger. He didn't gesture any action to harm the boy because Arthur would pound him, he sternly strode out of the way and back to his shop. He tried to turn and smile at Gwen, but Arthur's deadly glare penetrated through his brain like a bullet.

"_What was he doing here?_" Arthur hissed as he pointed at Roger's departed direction.

"There's steak on the stove," Gwen replied steadily.

"STEAK!" Denise cried out in happiness. Today had got to be the best day of his life.

Gwen and Arthur watched as their son jumped onto the chair and waited readily at the table for a piece of steak to appear in front of him.

"I'll go get it," Gwen laughed.

Arthur shut the door behind him gently. He was proud of the white door, after all, he never painted in his life and it was a pretty good job. He seated himself in front of Denise and watched in amusement at the boy's sparkling expression.

When Gwen set down the wooden plates, the steak smelt like heaven. Denise was literally drooling all over it like a dog over a bone. He felt like he was going to explode with joy. He noticed his father was as excited as he was as they dug in.

They ate hungrily in silence, until Gwen broke the silence:

"Miss Margaret Emsworth came up to me this morning," she began, "She offered me a job."

Arthur dropped his steak on his wooden spoon, "What?"

"Miss Emsworth is in need of a maid. It seems she had twisted her ankle when she fell down the stairs the other day. I thought you'd be happy about this," she didn't cover up her confusion, "If it is Denise you are worried about; I will ask Martha if she can look after him when I am at work."

"Are you sure about this?" Arthur asked, popping in the same piece of steak in his mouth.

His wife nodded happily, "Yes."

He nodded, happy for his wife's happiness. He slipped his hand into his pocket, remembering the knife the fisherman gave him. The family didn't have many metallic things and found it more efficient to carve utensil's out of wood. He slipped the knife on the table.

"A fisherman gave this to me."

Gwen stared at him puzzled, "Why?"

"I…" he trailed off; he was not sure whether it was a good idea to tell Gwen about the job he just went of trail for. The contract crackled a bit as he moved into a more comfortable position on the chair.

He sighed, "I got a new job."

Gwen gaped at him, but her face portrayed extreme joy, "What kind of job is this?"

Arthur carefully chose his words, "A high paying job I guarantee, but a job that requires most, if not, all my time."

She contemplated this, "_All _your time? Surely no job requires that much."

"It's a high paying job."

"How much is it exactly?"

"Thirty three pounds."

"Really, that is quite a lot," Gwen didn't appear convinced.

Denise burped and rubbed his stomach. Normally, Gwen would scold him for such appalling manners, but it seemed like his mother was questioning his father with her dark brown eyes. Arthur shifted in his seat and reluctantly pulled out the contract Captain Scanlon gave him on _Claudia_.

She investigated the outside and slowly rolled it open. Arthur watched as her eyes grew wider and wider in what he presumed was shock. After the long moments, she rolled it up again and placed it on the table lightly.

"Arthur…"

He winced at her expression, "I know… I'd be gone for days."

"Days? You could be gone for months, if not _years_!" Gwen snapped her voice loud and clear as thunder.

Denise jumped up in surprise; his mother rarely raised her voice at home.

"But I have to, I've already did the trails for it," Arthur said slowly, "Beside's it's a merchant ship, we do trade! It's not like I'm never going to come back!"

"What about Denise? He's only a boy!" she exclaimed, rising from her seat, "He needs a father figure in his life!"

"And I'm sure I can help find a man who would his model."

Gwen sighed as she stood there in thought, "I still don't agree."

Arthur was at the edge of snapping, "You're being a hypocrite," he stated blandly.

She gaped at him in severe shock, "How am I a hypocrite?"

"You get yourself a job and expected us to agree to all your terms," Arthur pointed out, sitting there glaring up at his wife, "And you are the woman of the family, it's your duty to take care of Denise."

"H-How dare you!" Gwen screamed, "Just because I am female automatically makes me the servant of our _own home_?"

"Mummy…" Denise called out softly, he was scared, really, really scared.

His voice was drowned out as Arthur and Gwen's tone became harsher and more violent. In the end they sounded like alpha wolves snarling at each other. Denise didn't understand what was going on. Why were they fighting? Is daddy going away? All of these questions tumbled around in his head and overwhelmed him. Tears dripped from his eyes.

"Daddy…"

There was still no response from either parent. The sunny sky began to fade and clouds decided to mock them eagerly. Denise felt trapped; he didn't have his own room to run to, he only had the lonely beach that was their front yard. So, he darted out the house and stood on the pebbly beach and watched the wave's crash in response to his sadness.

Mingled with the drifting sounds of waves, he heard footsteps behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know that the person behind him was Gwen. He could tell from the rhythm of her footsteps in the hard sand. She had little footsteps, gentle and quiet.

"Honey…"

She called him honey when he felt sad, angry or frightened. Denise appreciated it and would sob his heart out once he heard the soft word. However, this time he didn't cry, he didn't turn around for support, he just stood there and watched the waves topple over each other.

"Honey…" she tried again, noting that the silence was a chance to explain their situation, "Your father is going to work on a merchant ship."

This caught Denise's attention, "M-Merchant ship?"

"Trade ship…"

"Like how Collin would _trade _pebbles with me?" he asked, Gwen had his full attention now.

"Yes, like that," she smiled, standing beside her son and watched the waves with him.

"But… He may not return for a long time," she continued.

"He's going on an adventure on a ship!" Denise suggested.

"I guess you could say that honey."

Back at the house, Arthur spied Gwen and Denise standing next to each other in a serene atmosphere. He felt bad. He didn't think Gwen would be so against it, but he had already signed the contract and had it in his pocket.

He hesitated, there had to be an alternative. But like fate itself, there rarely was one. Shutting the door gently behind him, he walked away from his family and to the docks.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading :)<strong>


	3. One Last Goodnight Kiss

**One Last Goodnight Kiss**

There was this feeling of emptiness as Arthur climbed aboard Claudine. It was ranging near the evening and all the recruits were back at home packing. The contract clutched anxiously within his grasp. His heartbeat plummeted like crazy. For the first time during his marriage with Gwen, he decided to go against her. And this time, he did not back down.

The floorboards creaked. Not far off, there was another creak, but from the other side of the ship. Arthur breathed in, breathed out. This was it. It was time to hand in the contract.

A breeze pushed past his face as he saw Captain Scanlon. The elder man was standing by the edge of the deck; he stared out to sea like a dog watching its master leave. The sun was a faint yellow line in the horizon. Arthur tapped Scanlon on the shoulder, forcing him back to reality. The captain looked at him with unsurprised eyes.

"Well, what do we have here?" he chuckled, scratching his beard.

Arthur took his time, "I've got the contract, but my wife –."

"Ah, got yourself into a bit of a mess with your lady eh?" he chuckled again, "Women. I remember me younger self use to be in love with a lady once. She stripped me bare."

"Pardon?" Arthur coughed.

Scanlon laughed boisterously like a hyena, "She took all my money and left me with nothin'. Said I should've seen it coming, considering how I love Claudine more than her. Some people just get jealous over the silliest things."

"I'm sorry… Sir," Arthur said in uncertainty.

"Sir? My goodness boy," Scanlon laughed, "You ought to call me Scanlon or more formally captain. I don't like the term 'Sir'."

"Why?" The words slipped out of his mouth without a seconds notice. Arthur's eyes widened, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry."

"Don't worry about it kid. And to answer your question, well, I just don't like the term really," he shrugged half heartedly.

Arthur smiled, but it eventually got shot down as Scanlon mentioned the contract again. He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over with shaking hands. Scanlon rolled his eyes. He took the rolled up piece of paper, tucked it in his thick muddy red jacket (which was hanging loosely on a stray mop) and flipped the item of clothing onto his shoulder.

He smiled at Arthur with his large yellow teeth, "Welcome aboard, kid."

* * *

><p>Lidia wanted to sleep over tonight. Denise had objected to it in every way possible, but Lidia was a hard one to convince. She'd stick to her guns till the very end.<p>

"Come on Denny!" Lidia whined, tugging at her friend's dirty sleeve.

"No Lidia! I told you, there's no room! We only have three mattresses! You wouldn't want to sleep on the floor, I don't want to sleep on the floor and I doubt daddy and mummy would too! Especially today," Denise protested passionately as they played this stalemated version of tug-of-war.

"Why especially today?" she asked, finally dropped his arm.

"Daddy is gonna work on a merchant ship."

Lidia's eyes widened, "Oh gosh, I wish I could join him!" she gasped.

Denise's eyebrows raised in anticipation, "Why is that?"

"It's like an adventure! Think about it, he'll meet pirates, high class passenger ships, _mermaids_-"

"Hold it!" Denise mustered up his best mature voice, "There is _no such thing _as _mermaids_."

"Yes there are!" Lidia whined back at him.

"Fine, we'll go ask Ms Martha, she'd know who's right!" Denise challenged.

Lidia rolled her eyes, "She'll choose me, because she's my grandmother," she pointed out in the most 'a matter of fact tone'.

"But she likes me more."

"No she doesn't."

"Yes, she does."

"_Prove it._"

"_Fine, _I will."

Their argument lasted for about ten minutes further before they needed to pause for breath and thought. Denise stomped of to Martha's house with Lidia prancing after him.

* * *

><p>"Oh goodie… Another new member!"<p>

Arthur watched as the other new recruit boarded with wide arms. Assuming that he wanted a hug, Arthur leaned in, but the middle aged man puffed his smoke at his face as if mocking him in disgust. Taken aback, Arthur took a couple of steps back and allowed Fredrick to initiate conversation with the rude man.

"Pardon me," Fredrick chided, "No smoking on board."

The man rolled his blue eyes; he blew the tips of his raven hair upward. This however, only pissed Fredrick off to no end. As he was about to lunge at the cocky man, Captain Scanlon broke into the scene and shoved them apart.

"I see you've met my nuisance of a nephew," he laughed, casting his nephew a shrewd look, "And his jolly pipe…"

"I'm sorry uncle, but you know how much this pipe means to me," Scanlon's nephew smirked. He blew a couple more ringlets of smoke and gave let out a haughty laugh, "Is this the famous Arthur Pendragon you were ranting on about?"

Arthur tensed, but he was pointing at Fredrick with the eagerness of a little boy. Arthur felt a little offended at the insensitive action, but smiled anyway.

"I'm-"

"This here is Arthur Pendragon," Scanlon interjected enthusiastically.

The man's eagerness dropped, replaced by a judgemental, cold scowl. The atmosphere around them froze and the silence became suffocating. Scanlon frowned at his nephew and gave him a warned look.

But his nephew brushed it off by saying, "This fellow? Even the mermaids can topple him."

Arthur's jaw dropped to the ground. Scanlon yelled at his nephew and scolded him for being an ignorant prat. Fredrick needed restraining again. All in all, Scanlon's nephew ignored them and sauntered off like cat with ringlets of smoke floated off behind him.

"Sorry 'bout that Artie," Scanlon apologised sincerely, "Gotta teach that boy some manners."

Fredrick scoffed, "Teach him, ha, it'd be better to pummel his face in, that little brat."

Scanlon gave him a menacing glance, "He may be a pain, but he's still my nephew."

"That's one hell of a nephew you got there…" he muttered under his breath.

Arthur chuckled, flicking off the offence he had taken earlier. Scanlon got distracted by the vice captain, who was gesturing him to the steering wheel. A young lad around the age of eighteen caught Fredrick's eyes. He dragged Arthur towards the short blond headed boy.

The boy stopped mopping the floorboards and his grey eyes glanced up. Fredrick had a goofy whole hearted grin lopped on his face. Arthur smiled politely and asked what his name was.

"Charlie Griffiths, 'fraid to say it but seems you and Fred are close," he smiled innocently yet stared at their conjoined hands.

Fredrick finally let go of his sweaty palms and broadened his greasy grin, "Charlie here, is my lover's little brother."

Charlie blushed, which caught Arthur's attention, but he said nothing.

"You are?" Charlie queried as he sent Arthur a curious gaze.

"Arthur Pendragon."

"This little guy here beat me fair and square," Fredrick bragged for Arthur boldly.

A boisterous sarcastic laugh interrupted their conversation. They turned around and Charlie's expression morphed into irritation. The rude nephew returned with a new lighter tucked inside his jacket pocket and a regenerated mind of sarcastic remarks. The people in front of him couldn't help but unveil the utmost irritation towards him as he sauntered up towards them, well, mainly to Arthur.

"Well, well, well, Arthur Pendragon," he breathed, blowing smoke at his face again and leaned his arm on Arthur's shoulder, "Talking to the ship's slut are we? I would have thought better of you, this is _very _disappointing."

"Charlie's not a-"

"Say's the man who is in love with a two-timing prostitute," Scanlon's nephew interrupted bluntly and smirked, "Oh dear, I slipped."

Burning annoyance raged in Arthur's gut as he almost pushed the man off of him, "What is wrong with you, can't you just shut that flaming mouth for a few god damn seconds?" Arthur screeched like an overly agitated bird.

Hurt flashed through the man's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by rage, "Maybe you should pick your friends more carefully, prat!"

"Prat, you are the prat, not me," Arthur retorted, shoving the man backwards into the wooden crates behind him.

The crowd grew larger and larger as their argument went on. Fredrick pulled Charlie out of scene. Scanlon returned, his face was red with anger and his teeth gritted, creating screeching noises. Everyone went silent. His nephew's face blanked dramatically. Arthur stopped breathing altogether.

"YOU TWO, GET OFF THIS BLOODY SHIP NOW!"

* * *

><p>Arthur sulked. He had left the ship with a wounded dignity; Gwen wasn't going to be happy about this. Heck, she didn't even want him near that ship. Arthur paid no heed to think any further, his mind clouded with that irritating nephew of Scanlon who forced his first day off Claudine. Arthur grumbled; he hasn't even proved his entire worth yet!<p>

He could smell of the burning wood and cooked potato to know that Gwen had prepared a snack to eat. The moon was a faint print in the coloured sky.

"Arthur, there you are," Gwen smiled, almost as if the previous argument were a distant memory. Arthur conjured up the courage to break the news to her twice in a row.

"I'm going tomorrow morning," he winced inwardly as his wife's face dropped.

"Tomorrow…? Surely there can be a later arrangement?"

"Captain Scanlon's orders can't be rebelled against, Guinevere."

"This is preposterous, what about Denise? When are you going to break the news to him?" her voice cracked as she pointed her finger at Arthur accusingly.

"I will…" he hesitated, "Soon."

Gwen was at the edge of screaming at Arthur like an over agitated tigress. She returned to her cooking just so she wouldn't lose her composure. Arthur on the other hand, went to the furthest corner of the room where the blankets were. As he pulled out a tattered bag, he folded the grey blanket neatly and shoved it inside along with his lack of clothing (a pair of pants, shirt and underwear), metallic shaving devise Martha's grandson had invented for him, and the knife (which was safely tucked away in a leather pouch) the old fisherman gave him. Just as he was about to leave like a mouse, Gwen softly choked out:

"At least stay for dinner one last time."

Arthur blinked, "Darling, I'm not going to be gone _forever_, just a couple of months."

"But still, what will I do if something happened to you out there in the wilderness?" she left the stove and cupped her hand on Arthur's cheek lovingly, a sad smile stretched on her face, "We love you too much to lose you Arthur."

Arthur smiled reassuringly and whispered, "Don't worry, I'll be fine," he gave her a peck on the lips and grinned, "I'm Arthur Pendragon remember? The hunk you married?"

She giggled like a virgin, "Yes I know."

The smell of smoke flowed into their nostrils. Gwen yelled out in panic and dashed to the stove where the potatoes where sizzling like sausages. Arthur rushed over to her and held onto the pan while Gwen spooned out the potatoes onto the wooden plate. She then hurried off to the well, and Arthur was already screaming for bloody mercy.

"Gwen, I'm dying here!" Arthur shouted out the glassless window.

"I'm coming," Gwen ran inside and poured the water onto the fire and pan like a waterfall. She sighed, "Oh no, my mistress is going to faint."

"Is this hers?" Arthur queried, "No wonder why it looked too posh to be ours."

"It's her favourite…"

"She has a favourite pan?"

Gwen merely nodded; her eyes welled up with unshed tears. Arthur gave her a kiss on the forehead and gave her a light cuddle. She grinned and leaned into him. They sat in this comfortable silence for a while until Denise and Lidia barged in like two stray dogs, barking like crazy.

Gwen sat up and gave them a questioning look, "What's wrong?"

Denise's frown deepened, "She wants to sleep over. I said no. NO."

"That's not fair! I let you sleep over and I never whine about it," Lidia argued, her hands on her hips, eyes piercing through the boy.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Kids, we should start eating before the food gets cold."

Denise's eyes perked up at the mentioning of food. Lidia just smiled politely and blushed. Gwen gave the girl a raised eyebrow and a weary glance. Arthur just sat down and took the potato whole before anyone else can steal it.

"Delicious."

Gwen raised her eyebrow at Arthur, "It's just a plain potato fried in a pan."

"Doesn't mean it can't taste good," Arthur smirked.

Lidia turned to Denise and whispered in his ear, "You said '_especially today' _before – you know about your mama and papa. I don't see anything wrong with them."

She stared at him with a frown. Denise shrugged, "Maybe they're better now?"

They both nodded simultaneously and concluded that they must have resolved the issue. Like puppies, they huddled around the table, grabbed an individual potato and ran off to the mattresses at the corner of the room. The owls outside began hooting as the sky dimmed and glittery stars twinkled in the sky.

It wasn't long before the house began to turn cold. Denise noticed Lidia's shivering, draped a woolly blanket around her and lit a fire in the middle of the room. The flames danced and filled its surrounding space with warm sunset colours. The warmth of the fire gradually embraced them as Gwen placed thick curtains over the open window. The room was like a haven of warmth and light.

Arthur watched as the children vigorously played the card game 'Snap' on the mattress. The endless sound of whining, cheering and thudding filled the room. In front of him, Gwen was skimming through a children's book. Her brows knotted in confusion as she stumbled on a difficult word.

"The word divination means to foretell the future, or try to at least," Arthur offered with a smile, his voice low and soft.

"Why on earth is a word like that in a children's book?" she breathed in frustration, "This is what they're teaching our son at school?"

"I guess so."

"Why would they need to know the word divination? Since when did we use such a word in everyday life?"

Arthur chuckled at her horror, "That's the point, school teaches them more than the ordinary things. It's helps them."

"But-"

"I do believe long words are necessary."

"But it's wrong to do divinations if you're a Christian."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Why is that?"

"Because it is going against our lord, we're trying to be like him by doing that," she protested passionately.

"How did we get to the topic of our lord?" Arthur mumbled.

"Well, you-"

"Forget I asked," he smiled and gave Gwen a chaste kiss on the lips before scuffling off to the children. He shoved them off the mattress and greedily hogged the bed. Gwen laughed, set down the book and joined him while Denise and Lidia whined.

"Get to sleep," Arthur ordered jokingly, tickling Denise.

"Ok, ok, I'm going!" Denise yelled, slipping under the blankets and dragged Lidia with him.

Gwen got up again and got rid of the fire. She watched as the moonlight peeked through the gaps of the thick curtains onto her family. Lidia had her eyes wide open, and whispered:

"Mrs Pendragon, aren't you sleeping?"

Gwen chuckled and toppled over Arthur. She winked at Lidia, telling her to be quiet. Arthur groaned in annoyance pushed Gwen over and hugged her like a child would hug his teddy bear. A blush rose in Lidia's cheeks as she rolled around and stared at Denise. Her eyes drooped as she contently fell asleep.

The breathing evened and Arthur made sure everyone was sound asleep. He gently lifted himself off the mattress and tucked Gwen under the blanket. He gave her a kiss on the lips, and a kiss on the forehead for Denise and Lidia. Grabbing his lack of luggage, he tiptoed out of the house like a snake into the cold fresh air of the night.

Tides crawled up to shore and the waves repeated its snore. The sand brittle and cold under his feet felt like icicles pricking at his soles. The wind tossed his hair and the moon shone bright white over him.

Another noise mingled. Panting and squeaks echoed in Arthur's ears.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy!"

The shrill of the young boy's voice made Arthur's heart tighten. He turned around with a smile plastered on his face. In front of him was Denise with a toy elephant clutched in his two tiny hands.

"Denise," Arthur choked out.

His son gazed at him with his brown specked with blue eye, "Take Elle with you too!"

Arthur took Elle the elephant from Denise's hands and kissed this it. He smiled at his son and gave him a pat on the head.

"Be careful while I'm gone ok?"

A broad grin shone brightly, "Daddy, come back and tell me about the mermaids ok?"

Arthur laughed haughtily and gave Denise a kiss on the forehead, "Ok."

* * *

><p><strong>This is actually a MerlinArthur (Merthur) story, even though Arthur is with Gwen at this very moment :) - I didn't know where the plot was going to go in the beginning, but it seemed more interesting to push Merlin and Arthur together :), thus the sudden change of genre.  
>Thank you for reading, favouriting and story alerting (?). But I hope to hear some of the comments you have to offer to improve the storywriting :)**


	4. Setting Sail

**Setting Sail**

Jingle, jingle. The toy elephant chimed in Arthur's hands like a wind chime. The ship's deck was illuminated by the moon's light, showering its glory over the rest of the sailors. Arthur found it difficult to adjust his vision to the manoeuvring of the rushing crew members. Fredrick wasn't far off however, in his bright red tunic and three heavy crates on his shoulders. Arthur made a hesitant move to interrupt the man.

"Arthur!" he beamed, crooked teeth on full display, "Help me with these, Captain said to put them in the engine rooms."

Peering into the tonne of huge crates, Arthur made out a screwdriver, nails, hammers, and mechanical things alike. He pulled at the crates like a curious cat and weighed it. Fredrick gave him a perplexed look before laughing. Arthur rolled his eyes in an 'I can totally carry this' way. Picking it up, the wooden crate emitted a chorus of clangs and jingles as he struggled to lift it. His arms tensed in pain.

"Hey, hey, don't do it if you can't," Fredrick advised with concern.

With a gasp Arthur heaved, "W-Who says I can't?"

"Suit yourself kiddo."

Fredrick let out an exaggerated grunt before striding off into the back cabins and down the basement-like stairs. Arthur sighed, he figured it'd be easier to drag along the ground, but his pride interfered and he ended up lifting it above his shoulder, eyeing competitively at the other sailors who lifted about two to three crates at one go. His previous pride in lifting one over his shoulder vanished, replaced with envy that he couldn't lift that many.

'_I'm not strong enough.'_

Begrudgingly, he drudged on. His arm, back and shoulders strained slightly at the extra weight. Little did he know that from the other side of the deck, was the rude man and his pipe. He eyed Arthur like a hawk, he smirked at every stumble the man made and shouted out in amusement:

"Oh lookie here, the mighty Arthur Pendragon can't carry a _simple_ crate?" he laughed menacingly, "What's in there? Oh let me guess, pillows?"

Arthur's blood rushed hot in his veins. He restrained himself from mortally attacking the man who was now bending over his feeble form. The suffocating smell of smoke enveloped him, and made his cough violently.

"What do you want?" Arthur hissed. He couldn't take the crate any further.

The man smiled smugly, "Oh nothing in particular, just your pain is quite humorous to watch. We should torture you more often."

"We…?"

There was a hint of an Irish accent trickling through the irritating man's voice. It made Arthur's heart jump a bit for no apparent reason, but he brushed it off like a fly. The man smirked and continued to blow ringlets of smoke on Arthur's face.

"Oh yes, _we._"

A snarl formed on Arthur's face. He glared at the deep blue irises in challenge. The man blinked in surprise, a flash of curiosity flickered but was replaced with amusement. He tilted his head so it was an inch close to Arthur's and breathed out, blowing smoke on his coarse lips. Arthur jerked away. The man merely chuckled.

"You're quite the looker, if only you weren't such a pussy," the man smiled an arrogant smile, "Shame."

"You're opinions are invalid," Arthur spat.

"Invalid you say?" he cocked his head to the side with innocence, "And why is that?"

"Urgh," Arthur grunted and shoved past his chatty obstacle. He thanked the lord that the man didn't follow him to the cabins.

'_Guess it's no fun without an audience.'_

With that thought in mind, Arthur noted to himself never, _never, _to encounter the man in public, _EVER. _

The cabins were small and cramped. It stank of men and their musk. Beer bottles (empty and full) lay scattered across the floorboards like a pile of dead cockroaches. Bunk beds stacked up beside the three walls in each room. Everything was dull, brown and smelly. The floors were prickly too, pinched Arthur's feet with no mercy. And besides all that, it was dark. The only light available was the small tinted window set in every individual room. Some didn't even have a window.

Arthur sighed; did he make the wrong choice? Maybe Gwen was right about it all, maybe he shouldn't have chosen it. He was already here though and he had not alternative but to continue. Like how he had to continue finding his way through the dull lit hallway to the engine room.

A loud creak groaned from the ground. Arthur almost squealed in surprise as Fredrick emerged from the ground like a zombie. He laughed at the younger man's reaction.

"You should have seen your face!" he cracked up.

Feeling the weight of the crate, Arthur growled, "Get this sodding thing off of me."

"Hey, hey, I admire your pride, but I told you that if you can't take, don't take it," he said in a bland tone.

Arthur huffed stubbornly; he dropped the crate on the ground. Fredrick rolled his eyes and pulled the crate down the stairs.

"Come on!"

The engine room was a little factory. There were more nooks and crannies than Arthur had anticipated. The sound of oils poured over rusty joints and nails were screwed on. Fredrick left the craft in the middle of the room where the other crates were. Arthur didn't know why they needed so many nails and hammers for such a miniature amount of people.

By miniature, there were only three mechanics.

"This is Barry, Ted and Lucas," Fredrick introduced.

Barry was short with heavy stubble on his face. His eyes were brown and his hair cut into a mullet. He was a short man and very stocky.

"Pleasure to meet you," he smiled; it was obvious he was Scottish.

"Me too," Ted grinned.

Ted was a tall, lean red head. He was a much angled person that reminded Arthur of a lamp post. Arthur smiled back politely.

"Please call me Luca," Lucas wasn't smiling, but his eyes hinted interest which made Arthur uncomfortable and cornered. The man had twinkling green eyes and long curled black hair tied up in a low ponytail.

"I'm Arthur Pendragon."

"We know," they chorused in unison.

Ted laughed, "Freddy told us."

Fredrick went pink and glared at them, "Oi, you didn't have to tell him that!"

'_Was this man parading around announcing my name?'_ Arthur thought in bemusement, he wanted to keep a low profile at this moment.

Before he had a chance to butt in, Charlie appeared from above the engine room door. He peaked from above like a bat and grinned.

"Captain's orders, you ought to get the engine running soon. Dawn is dawning on us."

"Cheers Charles, has the merchandise arrived already?" Ted asked.

Barry snorted, "It's four in morning, and people need their beauty sleep."

Ted ignored Barry and focused on Charlie, "Well?"

Charlies raised his eyebrows, "Yes they have. Which is surprising actually, Mr Wellington came by with Nicolas – says the ships in good condition and that he's glad to have chosen to move his supplies on it."

Ted and Luca grinned at each other, "And what of the engines?" Luca queried in curiosity.

"He says 'the engine room is the most spectacular place in this ship," Charlie mimicked in a joking manner.

"Alright!" they cheered.

Fredrick laughed and gave them a pat on the back, turning his attention to Arthur he suggested, "Shall we go now?"

Arthur nodded and followed him up the stairs. Charlie waited for them, his broad grin plastered on his face. Arthur found it perplexing that Charlie's attention was often on Fredrick and nowhere else. But like always, he brushed it off.

"This is one of those modern ships out there, on _with _an engine," Charlie stated.

"Indeed…" Arthur had no idea what else to say, he knew nothing about ships in general, "So, you seem to be familiar with Ted, Barry and Lucas?"

"Ah, yes, they were my childhood friends," he said with a joyful tone, "It was just they were here longer than I was – I didn't know anything about mechanical devises, I still don't actually. They tried to teach me, but I didn't understand the arithmetic."

"_However,_" Fredrick barged in, "He is a wonderful poet and literary author."

Charlie turned a bright crimson, "No, you're exaggerating."

"Exaggerating? I have read all your stories and your songs, they are brilliant!"

This worsened Charlie's blush. Arthur smirked – _'They are adorable.' _

"Thank you…" Charlie whispered in embarrassment.

They grew silent as the noise of the outside interrupted them. The crewmen were huddled into tight groups and chattered away like a bunch of gossiping high class women. Among the loudest were the man and his pipe. Arthur cocked his eyebrows at the mentioning of his name.

"Arthur darling, where have you been?"

'_Darling?' _Arthur cringed.

Walking up to the man, Arthur glared, "What do you want?"

"Oh sweetie, don't be so harsh in your speech," he mewled in the most disturbing manner.

Smoke twirled around Arthur's eyes as he gaped at the man with utter confusion. Was this man messing with him or something? Fredrick pierced a hole through the man's forehead and snarled. Charlie hid behind Fredrick; he knew his presence will cause further conflict.

"I don't care if your Captain's nephew or whatever, I wouldn't a flying fuck if you were even his son, but I want to pummel you to the ground this very instant," Fredrick growled.

The man smirked, "And I don't give a damn if you laid a finger on me because you'd be the one to lose your job."

"Why you-"

"Calm down!" Arthur hissed, his hand stopped on Fredrick's stomach as a gesture of order, "I'll handle this."

The smirk stretched further, "Oh darling, you want to handle-"

"Don't even start," Arthur murmured his face an inch close to the man's pale one.

"Oh, straight to the point are we?" the man whispered, he blew smoke into Arthur's mouth in a seductive way.

Arthur frowned, suppressed the urge to cough. The man smirked, sensing Arthur's discomfort.

The Irish accent dripped from his tongue and Arthur was hypnotised by the man's appearance as the sun rose slowly. It made his skin glow and his eyes sparkled like the ocean. The wavy raven locks had strands of silver flicked here and there. How could such an annoying man be so damn _attractive_?

Clearing his throat, Arthur jerked away from the man. He avoided coming in contact with his eyes. He gulped at the thought of those blue eyes that flashed gold.

"Speechless I see," the man slurred, making his way up to Arthur. He flicked Arthur blond hair and growled, "At least you know when to shut up."

Arthur shook his head out of its strange trance, "At least I don't act like a woman."

The man stared at him wide eyed, "What?"

His blue eyes flashed gold like lightening, "Do you have a problem with women Arthur?" he breathed out Arthur's name like velvet.

Fredrick coughed at the awkward position they were in. The man's leg was in between Arthur's thighs which forced him to lean against the ship's railing. The man leant in slightly in slightly in a seductive intimidating way as he blew smoke at Arthur's face.

Arthur suppressed his urge to cough and glared, "I have a problem with you."

He merely chuckled, "Me? You don't even know my name."

A flash of realisation caught Arthur by surprise. The man in front of him was right. He judged without a second thought. Gathering up his courage, he murmured, "My apologies, let me introduce myself again. I'm Arthur Pendragon, what's your name?"

The man laughed boisterously and tipped the ash from his pipe onto Arthur's tunic. With a loud yell, Arthur almost launched at the man with irritation. On the other hand, Scanlon's nephew just puffed smoke straight back at his face with a smirk painted on his lips.

"Emrys," the man slurred, "Just Emrys."

'_Emrys, what kind of name is that?'_ Arthur pondered in confusion.

Suddenly Captain Scanlon popped out of nowhere, "Merlin is 'is name, dunno why he bother with that foolish name," he grumbled, pulling Merlin by the shoulders, "You, lone cabin. Now! Otherwise I'll really have to beat you."

Merlin's face paled and he shuffled off after his uncle like a lost dog.

'_Merlin eh?'_

That name was not as normal or strange as the name Emrys. It however, caught Arthur's attention that the man even bothered informing him of his name in the first place. Like didn't he hate him? Arthur's mind wandered here and there until Fredrick let out another awkward cough before gesturing with his eyes that they had an audience.

Everyone was staring at him, blank and shocked. Arthur turned to Fredrick and Charlie in question. They walked off and Charlie tugged his shirt, ordering him to follow him to the shared cabins.

"What? Why are they looking at me like that?" Arthur hissed in question.

Fredrick raised his eyebrow, "This is Emrys we're talking about."

"What's so special about Merlin? And why are you calling him Emrys? Isn't it just some stage name that entertainers make for themselves?"

Charlie laughed, "You think Emrys is an entertainer?"

Arthur blinked, "Yes… Why not? He has the dramatic personality for it."

"He's supposedly some ingenious magician," Fredrick explained, "Well, his father was. Apparently his mother died a while ago from some sort of mental illness."

"Magician?"

"Scanlon is going to ship him off to Mercia – he'd be out of our skin by then."

Charlie nodded, "He's only twenty and I heard he steals from poor people," he whispered in a low tone.

Arthur raised his eyebrows, "Tell me… Do you actually have evidence on these accusations?" he reasoned, eyes narrowed at his companions.

The pregnant silence answered for them. Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head in disappointment. He gazed at them like a parent would gaze upon a naughty child.

"Even if he is annoying, it doesn't mean we can just accuse him of crimes he probably hasn't done," Arthur chided.

The two men shrunk in size and nodded, ashamed at their own actions. Arthur gave them a thumb up and patted them on the back. Fredrick scowled at him, jokingly retorted that he didn't like being treated like a pet. Charlie blushed slightly and giggled.

From outside, footsteps grew louder and rushed. Men were running around everywhere as Arthur, Fredrick and Charlie joined them. In the mist of confusion, Arthur stared at Captain Scanlon in question. Fredrick laughed and ran over to the ropes; he climbed them like a spider would climb on its web. Charlie hurriedly moved the remaining crates out of the way and pulled at the shorter ropes and tightened them. Men were flying about above Arthur, flapped open the masts and pulled the flag of a golden lion into the sun raised sky.

"Move the supplies and cargo!" Scanlon commanded, ordering the men on the shore to push the remaining cargo at the bottom layer of the ship, "Crew, get ready to set sail!"

As the masts opened and the wind blew against them, the remaining cargo was stored and the ship's side was shut with tight metal bolts. The anchor was pulled up with about four men and Fredrick finally jumped down from the tangle of ropes. Charlie returned flushed.

Elle jingled as Arthur clutched onto it in his pocket. Gwen wouldn't be awake yet, and Denise would be asleep too. Arthur smiled sadly as he stared at his home in a blur. It started to drift further away, the ship groaned slightly as it pushed off shore. And all Arthur could do was watch. Stare at his home as he sailed away.

Fredrick and Charlie stood beside him and gave him a pat on the back.

"It's only a couple of months, you'll be back soon."

Arthur nodded solemnly in response; he drudged around and came eye to eye with flickering blue gold eyes.

'_A couple of months indeed…'  
><em>

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><p><strong>I don't own Merlin, maybe the morphed personalities but not the actual characters :). I switched Arthur and Merlin's positions. Merlin's the prat now hehe.<br>Thank you for reading ~~**


	5. Sid Sonnet and the Captain

**Sid Sonnet and the Captain**

The thing with boats and ships were that they rocked. Arthur at first was absolutely fine with the slow, hypnotic motion of Claudine swaying side to side. It sent some new recruits to the side rails and they poured their yellow, smelly gifts to the sea. So for those couple of hours the ship stunk of vomit and poor Charlie had to do the dirty work by mopping it up.

It had been a calm start. The sea was as cool as a cucumber and the sun bathed them with its glorious warm attention. Some crew members lay down on the deck soaking in the sun's rays. There was nothing to do, other than lounge around and do a couple of checkups on the ship. Otherwise, everything was running smoothly.

Well, except for the smell of course.

"I can't take it anymore!"

Arthur turned to Charlie who sat down beside him under the sun. The boy was loosely holding the mop in his left hand with defiance.

"Why on earth would they recruit on a ship if they get _seasickness?_" he whined at the rationality of the puking men at the railing.

The twirling of Arthur's stomach made him want to gag. This was the last thing Arthur needed. But he forced it in; he didn't want to be one of Charlie's nuisances by spewing all over the clean, polished ship floor. Charlie on the other hand kept ranting on about stupid sailors and their dumb decisions – in which Arthur ignored with much difficulty. It didn't help that the men in front of them made Arthur's face pale and his body weak.

"Arthur, are you alright?"

Charlie's eyes glistened with concern. Arthur nodded quickly.

"I need to go to the bathroom," he quickly mumbled and scurried of into the cabin rooms where the bathroom was.

It was a shame. There was tiny hole in the middle of this tiny room. It stank of crap and other 'lovely' things. Arthur pinched his nose to rid of the daunting smell. His stomach growled in disagreement. He rushed to the hole and gagged, but no vomit can out. His stomach wanted him to regurgitate, but the rest of his body didn't let him.

His legs shook, almost gave way. The room suddenly felt way too cold for his liking. His head began spinning. He was rushed out of the bathroom, but he stumbled at the front doorstep and there were only blurs of green and black that clouded his eyesight. His stomach growled again, but this time a painful stab plunged it.

"Shit…" Arthur cussed in irritation.

Clinging onto the walls, he tried to compose himself. But he fell…

"Whoa, whoa, watch it!" a high husky voice demanded.

Arthur let go of the wall in order to turn around. He tumbled midair and the man caught him, stood him up straight, but noticed there was

something wrong with Arthur. His face is awfully paler than normal and his eyes hazy.

"You must be seasick buddy," he concluded.

Arthur shook his head at the medium high, black haired, country man. He weakly pointed to his legs and stomach, but he found it hard to breathe considering how much he was shivering from the cold.

"Period pains?" the man joked. Arthur scrunched up his face in disgust, the man laughed, "Sorry, sorry."

"I feel really cold…" Arthur whispered.

That's when the man's black eyes lit up in realisation, "Aha! You must be starving!" he declared, he held Arthur up and walked him to the dining room.

The disappointing thing was Arthur had to walk out into the open because the dining rooms were on the back side of the ship. He didn't want to appear vulnerable in public. And god knows, maybe _Merlin_ was there to taunt him once again.

Merlin hadn't been outside for a while now. Scanlon had kept him in his lone cabin, locked and caged up. The only thing that reminded the members of his presence was the never ending trail of tobacco smoke that seeped out of the cracks of the cabin door. They resented the smell – well some of them did.

"Arthur! I knew something was wrong!" Charlie dashed over to them, he glanced at the man holding Arthur up, "Sid, thank god."

Sid nodded in greeting, "He's sick," before Charlie could interject 'seasick', Sid rushed, "Sick for food."

"Oh dear, it's like one of those Fredrick days isn't it?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows in question.

Charlie giggled, "He skipped breakfast once and he began to feel cold, he experienced headaches, his body was weak and his vision was fading. But that was only because he skipped eating for over a week. He was too busy with his job."

Like an excited pup, Arthur nodded in agreement that he felt the same symptoms as Fredrick. Sid continued to drag Arthur whilst Charlie helped. They ignored the questioning glances from the other crewmembers.

The dining was small to medium. It wasn't too big or too small with tables glued lined up at the walls. There was a square table in the middle and the stools were stacked on top. On the left side of the entrance was a small kitchen. There was a kitchen bench, cupboards and a door to a storeroom where the food were kept. The storeroom door was like a safe. Charlie groaned at this.

"How are we going to get to the food now?" he whined.

Sid rolled his eyes, "I'm the cook, Charles," he jingled the keys in his hand.

"Oh, that's right…" he blushed in embarrassment, "Sorry."

Arthur's stomach growled again, commanding them to hurry the hell up.

The key turned with a click. The two men stared in awe at the abundance of food in the chilly storeroom. Sid smirked at their reactions and grabbed some sugar. He poured some warm water from the kettle into the cup, dunked three teaspoons of white sugar into it and stirred. He was out in the kitchen doing this while Charlie held onto Arthur and fed him a juicy red apple.

They sat him down on the kitchen bench and Sid handed him the cup. Arthur weakly took it and sculled it. His tongue tingled with happiness as it met with the sweet water. His belly soothed as the warmth filled it. His eyesight began to improve.

"I tell my children not to skip eating," Sid muttered, sending Arthur a chided look, "And you're an adult, you should know by now how bad it is for your health."

Charlie smiled at Arthur, "Sid used to be a doctor."

Arthur blinked, his mouth gaped, "Dr Sonnet?"

It was Sid's turn to blink in surprise, "Yes, Sid Mario Sonnet is my name."

"Do you remember Gwen?" Arthur asked with enthusiasm.

Suddenly Sid cracked into a broad grin, "Ah, yes, I remember you now! How is Denise by the way?"

"He's lovely. He's doing well in school, he's pretty active, Gwen and I love him…" Arthur paused as he realised he was rambling and bragging.

Sid laughed, "No, no, it's normal for fathers to brag about their children!"

Arthur laughed and gave Sid a pat on the back like old friends. Feeling a lot better, Arthur's skin returned to its healthy glow and he no longer felt the lingering presence of the cold and feebleness.

"Here."

Sid placed a random small chocolate pudding (the size of a hand) down on top of Arthur's lap. Arthur beamed like the sun and stared at the floury sweetness with eager and childlike eyes. Charlie subconsciously whipped his finger on top of the gooey chocolate mousse and sucked on it.

"Oh wow! This tastes amazing!" he gasped.

Arthur grabbed the pudding whole and shoved half of it in his mouth. Sid crossed his eyebrows and thumped Arthur's back as he started the choke.

"Slow down Arthur," Sid laughed.

"No," Arthur protested, "This is heaven on earth, I will proceed!"

Thus, he shoved the other half into his mouth, gulped some gallons of water and smiled happily. Charlie stared in disappointment as he watched the food go down Arthur's throat.

"You think you can survive now?" Sid asked.

Arthur nodded and stood up, "Yeah gotta get some fresh air."

Charlie froze, "_Fresh _air?"

"Better than getting cooped up in here," Arthur shrugged half-heartedly.

Sid laughed loudly, "You should go help clean up."

* * *

><p>The last thing or <em>person <em>Arthur wanted to encounter on this smelly ship was Merlin. Unfortunately, God had other plans for him and summoned the 'grand angel' to Arthur's presence. And that grand angel decided that it'd be fun to dump piles and piles of mops and buckets on his already aching back.

"What is your problem?" Arthur was starting to regret leaving the dining room.

"My problem?" Merlin smirked smugly, he stared down at him, "Uncle won't be happy when he returns on deck to see…" he gestured to the puking people, "… _This_."

Arthur sneered, "And that has something to do with me how?"

"Well, considering how uncle is coming this way and you are presumably the crew's role model, uncle is relying on you to keep order around here," he gave Arthur a smug smile before strutting off to the other direction with the pipe twirling around his fingers.

"Artie, my boy!"

Captain Scanlon had the biggest grin plastered on his face. Arthur cocked his eyebrow in confusion – he almost took Merlin's words seriously and was half expecting a punch in the face rather than this… interesting expression. Scanlon looped his arms around Arthur and smirked, his eyes glinted in the most mischievous manner.

"I just kicked the vice captain from his position."

The applauded tone of his voice sent Arthur's sixth sense to scream out danger. Arthur wondered if it was even possible to kick someone out of their position when, one, the journey just started, and two, the vice captain must've been an expert. So what did the poor fella do wrong? Scanlon's smiling face hinted something.

"Would you like to replace the darn fellow?" he offered.

"_Now…?_" Arthur blinked in shock, "Shouldn't you give him another chance?"

He burst out cackling like an evil witch, "Give him another chance?" his eyes sneered, "He's already jumped off the bloody ship and went home."

"J-Jumped off?"

"Are ya deaf? Course he jumped off!"

Arthur's blood drained from his face. What on earth did the captain do to the man to send him flying out off Claudine?

Scanlon rolled his eyes, "It ain't the first time it happened. I'll just get Sid to replace him for a couple of days till you make up your mind eh?"

This caught Arthur by surprise, "Sid?"

"Sonny the Sonnet, that's his name."

"I thought he was the cook," Arthur stated in disbelief.

"He is. But the man knows better than anyone on this ship how to run m'lady Claudine," there was a proud aura illuminating around the captain, "Been friends since the fifteen hundred's! Jolly, things change fast!"

He turned directly to Arthur, "What's the time again Artie?"

Arthur looked at the sun which was rising halfway from the sea horizon, "About eight o'clock Captain."

"Jolly, how ya do that?" he splattered.

"Dunno, kind of gotten used to it I guess," Arthur shrugged.

From the distance, Merlin returned with a subtle entrance. He still puffed smoke from his pipe like an addict. Scanlon screwed up his facial features and scolded his nephew for smoking on his wooden ship. Merlin merely shrugged half-heartedly and tipped ash onto the deck without batting an eyelash.

"You cocky little bastard!" Scanlon shrieked.

Merlin rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Arthur, "You, come with me."

"What? Why?"

"Urgh, just do as I say, you _prat_."

Heaving a sigh, Arthur nodded in apology to the captain and scampered after the lanky man in front of him. They said nothing and tried nothing to solve the problem. Merlin created shapes with his pipe smoke like an awed child. Arthur watched in boredom.

They were leaning against the railing near the front of the ship. Arthur watched the waves tumble over each other and tried to find specks of fish life. Merlin on the other hand stared up at the azure sky and blew his smoke towards it, trying to make a cloud of his own.

"Wouldn't it be spectacular if I could create a cloud?" Merlin asked randomly, "And maybe I would call it Emrys."

Arthur ignored his eager expression and replied coldly, "Not really."

"You are no fun," he drawled.

"Well, you're talking about _clouds, _I have no idea how that would be fun to the very least," Arthur pointed out rather bluntly.

Merlin rolled his eyes, "You could have at least given me your opinion."

"Opinion on what…? How a cloud should _never _be named after _you_?"

"_No_, well… I don't know, just that create conversation. I'm sick of creating conversation with you – do you know how tiring it is?"

Blinking rapidly, Arthur gaped, "You tried to make conversation with me?"

"Of course, why else would I approach you in the first place?"

"Well, all we've been doing is arguing."

Merlin grumbled something under his breath about Arthur's incapability to sustain a conversation. Arthur didn't hear, rather he was distracted by the specks of scales floating on the surface of the water. Merlin noticed them, but regarded them as worthless and grabbed Arthur's face, twisted it to his direction. Arthur yelped.

"It's rude to do that," Merlin chided.

"You do it too you know," Arthur retorted.

He let go of Arthur's face and sighed. Out of stress, he sucked on his pipe and panted out the smoke. Arthur waved his hands in front of him, diverting the smoke. In the corner of his eyes, Arthur spied Captain Scanlon and Sid Sonnet engaged in a boisterously light chat. Sid's hands constantly in contact with Scanlon's shoulder.

Merlin scowled at the doctor. He was about to march his way up to them, until Arthur grabbed him by the arm and jerked him back. He eyed with warning.

"It's probably something important," Arthur assumed.

"Important? I doubt that," he snarled, his eyes piercing a hole behind Sid's head, "That foul creature… Sleeping with my uncle."

"It can't be that bad – wait WHAT?"

His arm dropped from Merlin's. The shock overwhelmed him.

"Don't you think that's foul?" Merlin queried sceptically, "Unless you're one of _them_."

"I'm _married _with _children_!" Arthur clarified clearly, "I thought you were."

Merlin's jaw dropped in a mixture of anger and shock, "_Me_? Yuck, no way."

_Well that was a surprise, _Arthur thought, but there was this feeling of disappointment that rose in his gut. The emotion was instantly suppressed.

There was no way he was risking it with Merlin, no way.

It was around there when Merlin sauntered off. He probably left to get the image of the men in front of them out of his mind. Arthur wondered if Scanlon knew about Merlin's discomfort for their sexuality. Probably not. But Arthur wasn't in the mood to die yet.

There was another thing that surprised him.

_I just had a decent conversation with Merlin.  
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><p><strong>Thank you Cypriana for reviewing and everyone who story-alerted and favourited :). Much is appreciated. <strong>


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